Grandpa was a railroader

[Fr.Al]

Thank you for sharing your memories. I can't say I had a grandfather or anybody else who was a railroad worker. But I do have fond memories of South Dorset and later, Bennington, VT.

     My family moved to Bennington when I was 10. About a year later, the remnant of the old Rutland between Burlington and Bennington was started up again as Vermont Railroad.

    Later, in 1970,I used to hitchhike to Steamtown in Bellows Falls. I got picked up three times by one person. The third time, he said "Don't tell me. You're going to Steamtown again." Time number 4, my brother was with me.

    Years later, as an Orthodox priest,I put in for the Ukrainian Orthodox church in Scranton, PA just to be near Steamtown's new location. Turns out, they had a candidate. But I'm learning my way around the railroad scene here in Western PA.

[Enzoamps]

I enjoy the stories in Trains and CT, those in my own words tales. My tale isn't very exciting, but is still a fond memory. 

 My grandfather was a yard brakeman on the B&O in Brunswick, MD.  He died when I was 12 in the late 1950s.  But I recall an odd fascination when I was smaller.  He would get ready to go to work and he put on his boots.  Always shiny, they were.  But what caught my attention was he was missing the front half of one foot.  At some point he was run over by a train wheel and lost it.  He would put on his sock, then roll the extra front part up.  he rolled up a second sock and filled the toe of his boot first, then inserted foot with rolled sock, and laced up.  Just an odd memory of the man I barely remember.  And as an adult, a reminder of how dangerous railroads can be.

I remember him responding to the loud whistle on the roundhouse.  A big steam whistle you could hear all over town as well as up and down the river.  I don't recall now, but he explained what it was for.  It was either shift change or noon lunch, I forget now, but at the time I took pride in knowing what that loud steam whistle meant.  We had no such thing back in the Washington suburbs.  When I visited my gransdmother, I could hear that whistle in the night from my bed.